Child's Play
by 8belles
Summary: Five years after the Undertaking earthquake, Oliver's new target is something completely unexpected... read with caution.
1. Chapter 1

**Child's Play **

**A/N: This takes place vaguely a few years after the Undertaking earthquake. As hinted by Arrow Season 2 commercials, Oliver is going to develop his vigilante persona further. I don't know enough about the Black Canary to include her here, so I'll keep it to our favorite Threesome: Dig, Oliver and Felicity.**

It started as a rumble as if a distant thunderstorm was brewing. She felt in through the thin blanket that was her bed. It was spread across a corner of the concrete floor of her one room hovel in the Glades. The sound intensified as a feeling instead of a sound and a whimper escaped her.

"Mom?" Neva squeaked in her little eight-year-old voice but no one replied. The corrugated steel roof began to warp and rattle alarmingly as dust and rust filtered down around her. The waves underneath her rolled the ground as if it were putty in the hands of a preschooler. Neva cringed, squinching her eyes tight against the calamity, "MOM!" she cried out from under the blanket.

Crashes of taller buildings around her and the sounds of people screaming assailed her ears. Roofs tumbled; car alarms sounded and she could smell smoke and grime rising around her. A voice in her head told her to get up and run. Run, run, **run**. Wrapping the blanket around her thin shoulders, she bolted from the doorway just as a large power pole collapsed upon her one room shack crushing it in the process. Sparks flew as live wires dangled like the malevolent arms of an octopus.

Not looking back, she kept running bouncing lightly off objects and people who crowded here and there trying to escape the chaos. Her blanket flew behind her like a cape but no one was thinking about super heroes now. Neva pelted to her mom's favorite corner where the nice man at the convenience store sometimes gave her popsicles in the summer time and a good sandwich in the winter. The scene was a disaster. Cars swerved recklessly; power lines were draped dangerously with their high voltages sending sparks into the night sky. A water main near by had broken and a spontaneous fountain appeared in the middle of the road like some geyser from Yosemite. "MOM!" Neva called out in the chaos over and over but no replies came. Was she with a John? Did she run away? Was she trying to find her? Neva spun on her heel in circles as the world came crashing down upon her.

"Neva!" a man's voice called out. It was the shop owner. He was covered in white plaster dust and looked more like a ghost than a man but Neva ran to him, the only familiar face in this sea of madness. He gave her a hug feeling her thin body under the ratty blanket.

"Mr. Goodwin! Where is my mom?" Neva asked, looking up at his dust-covered face accented with rivulets of sweat from his brow.

"Neva, I got bad news." He said as kindly as he could, his eyes soulful.

"No. No, Mr. Goodwin. No." Neva broke free of his kind hold, backing away.

"Neva!" he reached out a hand towards her but the panic in her eyes couldn't be overcome. She spun and ran away as more debris tumbled into the street. A prayer rose from his heart that someone would protect that little girl as he watched his life's work crumbling before his eyes.

Neva ran till a stitch formed in her side and her lungs burned. Coughing and choking from dirt and exertion, she saw a dry culvert; it's semicircular form looked inviting and safe so she crawled in and formed herself to the smooth concrete. Pulling the blanket around her against the night chill the shock of what had occurred finally hit her and she sobbed herself to sleep, alone.

"Oliver. I think we have our new target." Dig's voice rumbled to the younger man doing calisthenics in the gym portion of the lair.

It had been five years since the Undertaking and Oliver was still working for the better of the city, although that role had changed slightly. No longer a vigilante, he was the Green Arrow, loosely aligned with SCPD. Mid ab-crunch, Oliver cast a look at John who was at the bottom of the stairs and approaching, "Mail from Detective Lance?"

"Yup. Left it in that little hidey hole you told him to when he needed assistance." John replied as he opened the envelope.

Oliver sat up and wiped his face off with a towel, "It's no bat signal but it works."

"Yeah, what is it with you rich playboys being cops?" Dig teased lightly and Oliver made a face in return. John looked at the letter as Oliver stood and walked to him to read it as well.

" The Snow White gang?" Oliver said after scanning the letter.

"Never heard of them. Sounds like Disney." Dig scoffed incredulously.

"Drug trafficking, prostitution and murder?" Oliver remarked with incredulity. "How did we miss them?"

" Lance says here that all the people they arrest are children." John said as a dangerous tone entered his voice.

Oliver joined him in looking seriously grim, "Crimes against kids."

"Yup." was the monosyllabic reply.

"Yes, Dig, we do have our next target. Let's get Felicity on this." Oliver stated, his eyes a dangerous shade of stormy blue.


	2. Chapter 2

Child's Play ch 2

Neva had already known the streets of Starling City well. She had no choice but to live by her wits and what ever her mother could scrape together from her pimp. Neva also knew she grew up too fast compared to the other kids. That's why she didn't get to school too often. Someone would say something and Neva would deal with it the best way she knew how, by ending it with a punch to the offending face. When she was in school, her teachers always told her she was very bright and had a great imagination. Neva took these small pools of light in her otherwise dark existence and stored them away in her mind so when life was particularly bad, she could draw on them for comfort.

The Glades was still mostly a burnt out husk of itself even though five years had passed. Neva woke and stretched always amazed at the feeling of the plush mattress beneath her and the soft sheets. Her gaze wandered around her room while her heart still couldn't believe this was all hers instead of being back on the street. A memory crept back to her though and she could not help but reminisce about the morning after the earthquake, when she dared to try to return to her home.

If Neva had ever seen a warzone, this would surpass it with the amount of destruction. It reminded her of that big battle scene in _Transformers 2_ that she and her mom snuck into the theater to see because they couldn't buy a ticket. A haze of smoke hung in the air and it was strangely quiet because every one else had run away.

As she rounded the corner to her home she saw immediately her mother was not there, but her pimp was. " _Neva,_" he said in a cloying way catching sight of her, his fancy clothes covered with ashes, "Honey, come here." He had a wild, unsettled look in his eye.

Neva stood stock still several yards away, every muscle taught like a bowstring, " Mister Grant… where is my mom?"

"I don't know, baby. C'mer and I'll take care of you now." he reached out a hand and began taking small steps towards her.

That familiar voice in her head that had saved her before yelled at her again: RUN!

Her lithe child body pivoted and easily outran the older out of shape man, "Bitch you keep runnin' 'cause you ain't no better than your dead mama!" he yelled after her with what little breath he could summon.

The words reached her ears but her fear was stronger so she ran on, not thinking about their meaning. She ran and ran until her vision blurred and her legs felt like rubber. Sucking air, she looked around to where her feet carried her and she wasn't in the Glades any more. Neva was standing outside the Starling City Public Library, a place she and her mother knew well.

Her mom took her to the library often because as her mom put it, she had a "flexible work schedule".

She would read to Neva first from the children's section but then as it was obvious Neva was quite bright, they moved on to other fiction. Her mom's favorite was "The Scarlet Letter" by Nathaniel Hawthorn. Her mom often said it was as if her life was written in this book and Neva was Pearl. "Mom, is my daddy a preacher?" Neva had asked her mom one afternoon in a quiet corner of the library. Dust motes played in the light from the large windows and painted a halo over her mother's brown hair.

Her mom smiled a warm smile that hid the dark circles under her eyes and lines that aged her, "Oh my girl. No. Your daddy was an important man to Starling City, but he's no preacher." Her mother smoothed her hair with a loving hand and Neva snuggled into her bony chest to return to the story. Neva understood the premise, but still being young didn't grasp that full meaning until the earthquake.

She was now alone and the world was her enemy.

Her thoughts now clear from her running; she saw a broken basement window and climbed through. Using a desk as a ladder, she eased herself down onto the floor. Suddenly she realized she was very hungry and thirsty. Being in the basement was no problem for her, she was used to dark places and quickly she found the staircase to the first floor. _There must be a break room around here somewhere_, she thought, _librarians have to eat too_.

Creeping very slowly up the staircase she quickly realized she was alone. Books were strewn all over the floor; papers lay where they were dropped and some bookcases were tilted from the earthquake. The lights were still on though and it was easy to see where she was going as she crossed the library main floor stacks.

Patiently, she sought out the break room, which was located off the main floor near a service elevator. The plumbing wasn't working but she found a couple of Cokes and an orange juice in the refrigerator. The only food was some chips in a cabinet and a half jar of salsa in the fridge. There also as a half eaten sandwich but Neva decided she was not _that_ hungry.

Sitting at a tiny table in the room, she chewed on her future as well as her food. The words of the pimp stung her finally: your dead mamma. Tears pricked her young eyes but years of emotional calluses kept them confined. Her mom never mentioned religion much; although there were those times she and Neva would go to a shelter run by a religious group. But Neva had the very distinct feeling that her mother was in a better place based on what little theology she was exposed to.

_But what about me_? She asked herself strangely contemplative. A comic book lay open on the table. She eyed it with it's colorful graphics and dialogue bubbles; it was a the volume where Jean Grey becomes the Phoenix and falls from grace from the X-men. She flipped through a few pages and slowly the tentative light of an idea formed in her head. Finishing her "meal" she knew she was right where she needed to be and that there was work to be done if her plans would come to fruition.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N The school year is starting again so my updates may be more spaced out. Thanks for the readership. 8belles**

Child's Play ch 3

Felicity's brow furrowed over her straight-rimmed glasses. Dig was playing _Angry Birds_ on his iPhone while he waited for Oliver to return from this night's mission. It was more of a rove-the-streets-looking-for-something-to-do type affair since the crime rings were still fairly disorganized except for this new Snow White gang. Felicity heard the bomb bird explode and the evil chuckle of the head pig. John cussed softly to himself because he had been on this level for the past two days and it was killing him.

The door above opened abruptly as Oliver entered. _Always making a grand entrance_, Felicity thought to herself as she tried to refocus her concentration. Oliver always made her lose it, and for that she loved and hated that about him. _Love_… that thought made her sit up straighter in her chair reflexively fidgeting with her skirt and pushing up her glasses on her nose although they had not moved down. _Focus, Felicity_, she admonished herself, _help him solve this without getting killed_. There was another unpleasant pause in her train of thoughts as a dark shadow tried to edge in to make her dwell on the flipside of their missions: mortal peril.

Oliver's voice, business like and curt, pierced through the Grim Reaper in the back of her mind, " Find anything about this gang?"

Blinking, but not turning her chair, she found her place on the text she was reading. She could hear him stripping out of his jacket and shirt; the bow and quiver long ago finding their places. Warm waves washed over her brain even though she could not see him, she could imagine precisely what he looked like. Mentally slapping herself and clearing her throat she replied, " Well this is interesting." She felt Oliver hover over her suddenly; his mass and heat palpable. "Ok, give a lady some space! Not that I don't like you in my space but space is important when you're trying to talk or …communicate." she looked to the right and Oliver's face was inches from hers but staring at the screen. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Ahem." John offered suggestively. Oliver glanced at Felicity and saw his proximity, which was intriguing but awkward.

"Sorry." He backed up quickly a foot or two. He could still smell her perfume, which made his insides fluttery. Felicity caught her breath and swiveled her chair to face both of them noting the amused look on John's face. She silently vowed to never let Dig to win _Angry Birds_ ever again.

"Here is all we know: every child that has been arrested won't tell the SCPD who the ringleader is or where they are located." she stated trying to remain calm after being so close to Oliver.

"Wait. The kids are committing the crimes of their own volition?" Dig said incredulously. He had seen lots of messed up stuff in Afghanistan but this was a bit extreme.

"Well, they get a cut of the action. Detective Lance's reports state the perpetrators are all children between the ages of eight and eighteen, although they have arrested a few kids who are committing crimes on their own but have ties to the gang." Felicity continued, "The youngest kids are used for petty crime and theft and the older ones deal the drugs and commit the murders. Most murders are over drug territory."

" Are there any other trends in the reports?" Oliver asked, his voice dark.

"Yes. All of the kids have lost every relative they had during the quake. They are orphans. Some of the youngest have…talked under interrogation interviews." Felicity had a hard time saying that imagining the kids in the white room and a cop being peppered with questions, "They state that the gang takes care of them, houses them and feeds them. They are upset that they are away from their 'family' when they are arrested, not that they committed any wrongdoing."

As she finished, they sat quietly in deep contemplation. This was not your average corrupt CEO or run of the mill drug cartel. These were children who were being lead seriously astray.

Oliver's jaw muscles flexed as he thought, "We have no idea where the adult of this gang lives?"

"No. Except that it's in the Glades… or what's left of it." she replied.

John spoke, " I know the Glades well and Carly has seen some action at the restaurant. How about we go down for a burger tomorrow night and just watch?"

Felicity and Oliver looked at John and nodded in agreement. At least it was a start to catch the person who was turning a whole generation of kids into criminals.


End file.
